


five times Mitch didn’t hide his feelings from Scott and one time he did

by super_leaf



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: 5+1 Things, A lot of talking about feelings, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Confessing Feelings, Flirting, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Platonic Scomiche, Scomiche, like this fic has no plot they’re just talking about their feelings, mentions of depression, romantic and platonic love, the sing off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_leaf/pseuds/super_leaf
Summary: Over the course of their life-long friendship, Scott and Mitch have had many conversations. And Scott has always been the one person Mitch can always talk to about anything. From confessions of fear and anxiety, jealousy and anger, sadness and regret, and love and happiness, Mitch has always been able to show Scott his true feelings. That is, until the day he can’t seem to find the right words anymore.
Relationships: Mitch Grassi & Scott Hoying, Mitch Grassi/Beau Sloane, Mitch Grassi/Scott Hoying, Scott Hoying/Alexander Kirk, Scott Hoying/Mark Manio
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. Anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So this is the first fic I’ve written in years! I used to have a ton of Scömìche fics on here but I deleted them all because I realized my writing was terrible! And yeah I know it’s 2020 and no one writes Scömìche fics anymore, but writing is so therapeutic for me and this fic is kind of like closure for me, as I’m trying to get over Superfruit being over and them not being as close anymore?? I guess this is my one last hurrah before I let Scömìche go and focus on something else. I will probably not write any more Scömìche fics after this, so enjoy this one! 
> 
> I will be updating this every week, so stay tuned if you like it! There will be six chapters in total, and I’ve already finished writing most of the fic, so the updates should be regular and consistent!
> 
> Also side note! Mitch’s encounter with the drunk guys in this chapter was a dramatized version of an experience I had with a guy a couple weeks ago. It was not a fun experience, but it inspired this chapter lmao

“You better hurry and come back soon, Mitchy,” Scott pleaded, voice muffled through the low quality of the phone speaker. New and better technology, his ass. Mitch cradled the phone to his ear, against his shoulder as he fumbled with his bags, cursing lightly under his breath. “I miss you..” he teased. 

“Yeah, I miss you too, cutie,” Mitch teased. He shifted the grocery bags to one hand, trying not to drop his phone, while he reached in the leather bag slung around his other arm for his car keys. Being on the Sing Off competition, Pentatonix had been staying in a hotel together with a lot of the other contestants, and due to the limited number of rooms and the multitude of people, (and a relatively low budget), Scott and Mitch had been forced to room together. 

But Mitch wasn’t complaining. There had been a brief, and relatively dark, period of his life where Mitch had lost Scott’s light as the older boy had gone off to college. There had been short and inconsistent iChat messages, but other than that, they hadn’t communicated much. That was until Scott had called Mitch one fateful night in a hurry, urging and begging the dark haired boy to reunite the Trio and audition for an acapella singing competition show called ‘The Sing Off.’

And now that they were in the throw of it all, Mitch had found something to be passionate about, had performed in front of thousands of people, reignited his friendship with Kirstin, made new friends with Avi and Kevin joining the trio, and had spent long nights holding deep conversations with Scott, and testing the boundaries, the limits, of their newly ignited relationship. He felt his face grow red with embarrassment at the memory of Scott’s strong arms around him as they fell asleep in the twin bed, legs intertwined. Everything was thrilling and new and beautiful.

So now, here Mitch was, returning his groceries to the car, groceries that Scott had sent him to fetch since the blond hadn’t been feeling too well this week. Still fumbling with his keys, he almost didn’t notice the group of men walking up to his car, loud and boisterous and reeking of alcohol. He could feel his heart rate quicken, blood rushing as the group of men (there were about four of them) cross the sidewalk, wander through the parking lot, and stop by Mitch’s car. Why were they here? Mitch could feel his mouth go dry, fear striking his heart.

“Hey,” one of the men said, a tall brunet. 

“Scotty, I gotta go,” Mitch said hastily. He barely heard Scott’s little ‘okay hun’, before he hung up on him. If they wanted trouble, Mitch would have to be ready to give them whatever they wanted or call the police. 

One of the men, a blond, leaned against Mitch’s car. He felt surrounded now, and his heartbeat began to race even faster. Oh God, don’t make me have a panic attack right now. “You’re Mitch, right? From Pentatonix?” The brunet said. 

He nodded hastily, his mouth becoming dry. It was dark outside and he hadn’t been able to get a good look at their faces yet, but now that he allowed his eyes to meet theirs, he recognized them and he felt his body still with relief. The four men were fellow Sing Off contestants, belonging to one of the many large and all male college age acapella groups in the competition. Mitch hadn’t talked to them much but they had seemed friendly enough when he first met them. But this didn’t mean he would let his guard down. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m Mitch,” he replied quietly, head raising to meet their eyes. When they didn’t reply, and instead just looked at each other exchanging quick glances and laughing, Mitch replied more deadpanned and angry, “Do you all need anything?”

One of the men (boys? They couldn’t be much older than twenty, and Mitch was only nineteen himself) chuckled more heartily and leaned down to face Mitch better. The smaller man braced himself. It wasn’t that he was scared that they were going to hurt him, it was just that they were all so tall and masculine, and Mitch felt small and vulnerable and extremely uncomfortable, especially since they all seemed drunk as hell. 

“Yeah, we just wanted to say we like your little band y’all put together,” one of them said.

“It’s really cute, what you do,” another replied. “Especially since you guys think you have a chance at beating all of the big groups out.” 

Mitch could feel his teeth grind. “Well, I didn’t ask for your input on our band, but thank you anyway,” he replied bitterly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my hotel. My friend is waiting for me.” 

The brunet who had first spoken grabbed his wrist as he turned around to leave, and Mitch felt himself jolt with surprise at the strength of the taller man. A sharp pain shot through his arm. “Nah, nah, wait a minute, man. We just wanna make a few things clear with you, wanna ask you some things.” 

Mitch set his jaw, his eyes blazing, glaring at the man as he attempted to pull away. “What do you want?” he practically spat out.

One of the men whooped as if Mitch’s anger was something to laugh about. These men didn’t know him at all, but from what they had possibly observed Mitch was definitely one of the more reserved members of the group, so his fiery attitude was probably a shock to them. 

“Okay, let’s get this straight-” the brunet (clearly the leader of their little posse), leaned in close to Mitch, too close. He heard the murmur of the blond, ‘well he’s certainly not’, and the laughing of the other men and suddenly he felt like he was back in high school again. He remembered the bullying, the shoving, the teasing, the nasty rumors, the days he would come home with a bloody nose or black eye. His heart hammered in his chest, his thoughts consisting of ‘run’ and ‘I need Scott.’ 

The brunet nodded. “Yeah, so what are you gonna do when your little group goes home? It’s cute and all to watch you guys try and compete with the rest of us, but it’s bound to happen eventually.” 

Mitch could feel the tightness in his chest increase, his heart dropping into his stomach. Pentatonix had done relatively well so far, but with every performance came the crushing pressure of knowing that if Mitch messed up he, and possibly the rest of his friends, would be stuck in Arlington, Texas (possibly forever) and would never achieve their dreams, which inhibited him from performing as full-out as he wanted to. And if Pentatonix didn’t end up winning…

“I-I’m not sure,” Mitch said shyly. His voice sounded small and scared, and he was again reminded of how weak he felt back in high school. “I haven’t really thought about what happens after this…”

One of the men, wearing a baseball cap, faked a sympathetic pout. “Aw,” he mocked. “Well isn’t that just adorable? So naive. But seriously, you should reconsider all your options.”

The blond nodded. “I’m not gonna lie, y’all are talented. But everyone is talented in this industry, and your voice isn’t all that special. The blond has got an incredible voice, I’ll give him that, and the bass and beatboxer are amazing. The girl’s a bit weak, but she’s hot, so she’ll be okay. But what about you?”

Mitch felt his heart stop for a second, mouth going dry. What would he do if all of his friends became successful and he didn’t? He didn’t believe he really had any other talents besides singing, and it really was the only thing he took pride in at the moment. But what if his singing wasn’t as good as he thought, and as good as everyone made it out to be?

The men took it as their cue to leave when Mitch continued to stand in silence, shocked and horrified, the groceries nearly slipping out of his arms, which had gone slack. His body was frozen with fear and he could hear his heartbeat pick up pace, his breath becoming audible. He was shaking, and he wanted to scream and cry and shout and put those men- no, boys- in their place because they were wrong, they were so wrong, what the hell did they know?

But what if they were right? Hissed the evil voice in Mitch’s head.

He managed to get everything put away in the car, sitting in the driver’s seat with shaking hands, the only sound interrupting the silence his ragged breaths. Tears threatened to fall, and he let them, warm and watery on his cheeks. He would cry now, and save Scott from the onslaught of his tears when he returned to their room. 

***

Thankfully, Mitch managed to get back to the hotel without passing out from exhaustion or swerving off the road with anxiety. It was rather late though, and the hallways were eerily quiet as he walked towards room 404. When he arrived he shuffled his belongings to get his key, knocking softly before entering so that a sleeping Scott wouldn't be too alarmed. He could feel his breath rattling in his chest, still shaking with all of the pent up emotion and anger threatening to erupt out of him. He choked back his sobs as he entered the room, closing it softly behind him. 

“Mitch?” came Scott’s groggy voice, muffled with exhaustion and a stuffy nose. 

“Hey, Scotty,” Mitch whispered, his voice wavering. “I got you the NyQuill you wanted. And some Ben & Jerry’s.”

“Half Baked?” Scott asked. 

Mitch nodded and set the bags on the desk, sitting beside Scott on the bed. The blond looked up at Mitch through blue eyes bleary with sleep. “Mmm,” he murmured. Mitch felt his heart pang, realizing Scott hadn’t let himself sleep until he knew Mitch had got back safely. “What kept you away so long?” he reached over lazily to grab Mitch’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“I-” Mitch began, but Scott interrupted him, his voice alert and worried.

“Mitch you’re shaking…” Scott observed as he held Mitch’s hand in his own. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

All of the emotions, the anxiety, the fear, the rage, boiled inside his stomach, and he wanted to throw up. He couldn’t let Scott know about what had happened, but not telling anyone about his fears would leave him sick to his stomach with worry. His only option then was telling the blond how he felt, or at least asking him what he thought about the previous conversation in the parking lot. 

“Scott, what are we going to do if we don’t win? What if we go home next week?” Mitch’s voice was small and timid and shaky, barely able to get the words out as he continued, “am I even a good enough singer to make a career on my own?”

A moment of silence passed by dreadfully as Mitch blinked back tears furiously, a hand over his mouth to stifle his soft sobs. Scott immediately shot up, his exhaustion from the lack of sleep and his cold suddenly gone. He grabbed Mitch’s shoulders suddenly but gently, his eyes wide with an emotion Mitch couldn’t quite place his finger on. 

“Mitch what the hell are you talking about?” Scott’s voice was raspy and pained when he spoke and it made Mitch’s heart skip a beat. “You’re...you’re incredible, I, I don’t have words to describe how beautiful, how absolutely gorgeous and ethereal your voice is…”

Mitch shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. Scott’s grip on his shoulders became tighter, both of their emotions climaxing. “No...stop telling that, just to make me feel better,” he replied, voice shaking with uncontrollable sobs. “You know you don’t have to lie to me, I’m not stupid Scott, I know I don’t have much going for me, I get hardly any solos, they know, everyone knows, I can’t...I can’t do this Scott!” 

“Who knows what, Mitch?!” Scott practically yelled back, voice hoarse. “What the hell’s gotten into you to make you think this? Are you even hearing yourself right now? How could you-”

“Scott! Listen to me! What are we gonna do if we go home, huh? We can’t last as a band, not if we don’t win. Kevin and Avi will go back to their old jobs and you and Kirstie will probably become big stars or something...but what...w-what…” Mitch sobbed out. “I can’t...I can’t go back to Arlington. Not like this.” 

“Mitch, you’re not going back to Arlington,” Scott attempted to reassure him. “Not without me, I’m never leaving you. That’s a given,” Scott continued, giving his shoulders a firm squeeze. “And we’re not gonna go home. We’ve done so well, and everyone is so proud of us. Can’t you see that we can do this? Can’t you see how proud everyone is of us? How proud I am of you?” 

Mitch wanted to stop crying but the more he thought about stopping the more emotion seemed to seep from him, pent up anger and exhaustion and fear overwhelming him and overflowing from him. He could feel himself shaking, his sobs racking his body. Scott realized this too, moving his gentle and strong arms from the brunet’s shoulders to instead wrap around his shaking body. The blond’s embrace was so warm and comforting, Mitch could feel his sobs slowly die down as Scott began rubbing a gentle hand across his back. Without thought, Mitch buried his head into Scott’s shoulder, his tears soaking the soft fabric of the taller man’s shirt. 

“Mitchy…” Scott whispered, craning his head to kiss the smaller man’s forehead. “Not a second goes by that I’m not completely in awe of you. You know I love you, you’re incredible. You’re,” Scott paused to shake his head with a soft smile. “You’re amazing. From the moment I first saw you performing when we were little kids in community theater, I knew you were a star. You shone so brightly and ever since that moment I’ve been so enamored with you. Every time I hear your voice, I can’t help but stare, you captivate me and you inspire me, and god you’re my everything. And I-” Scott’s voice began to break with emotion, “it hurts when you doubt yourself so much, Mitch. It hurts me that you don’t believe in yourself the way I believe in you.”

Mitch’s cries had stopped a while ago, his silence directed at Scott, intensely focused on the blond’s words. His heart was skipping beats, his face flushing. There was no way Scott, who was such a bright and positive presence in his life, whose smile lit up the whole room, whose voice and charisma demanded the attention of everyone, could see Mitch as his inspiration. And yet every word Scott managed to croak out was entirely true, Mitch could hear the passion and the raw emotion in his voice. 

“I just don’t want to fail...Scotty,” Mitch whimpered. “I’m just terrified to fail. I can’t afford that.”

“Neither can I,” Scott replied. “But we won’t. I’m sure of it.”

“How do you know?” Mitch asked, voice soft. 

Scott smiled and held Mitch a little tighter, allowing a warm and extremely comforting feeling to encapsulate Mitch’s body. “Because we have you in our group.”

Mitch felt his heart thump a little faster. Tears welled in his eyes again, but this time from happiness. Never before had he ever felt so loved, so safe, so protected, than when he was with Scott. He prayed silently that this man would never let him go, that they'd always be able to talk together like this, and to hold one another this close.

“And you know,” Scott continued, voice gentle and soothing. Mitch closed his eyes, listening to it like it was a melody. “You didn’t have to come. You could’ve gone to college. But you joined us, and oh my god, I am so thankful, so blessed, we all are, to have you here with us. I can’t imagine this group, Pentatonix, without you Mitch.”

Mitch let his chest rise and fall slowly in response, letting out a ‘hmm’ of understanding. “I love you,” he whispered, nuzzling his face closer into Scott’s neck. In response the blond leaned back into the pillows, so that Mitch was laying with his head on the blond’s chest. Scott began to run his fingers lazily through the brunet’s hair and Mitch could feel sleep suddenly grasping at his mind like a hungry animal.

He almost didn’t hear Scott whisper back “I love you so much,” as he drifted into a gentle and comfortable sleep, the words of the men from earlier that night almost forgotten. 

If Scott Hoying believed in him, and was sure he was gonna turn out okay, Mitch knew everything would turn out just fine for him. For all of them.


	2. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: Chapter 1 takes place in 2011 when PTX is on the Sing Off and this chapter takes place in 2014 :)

The flickering of little multicolored Christmas lights, the excited chatter of all his closest friends, and the sound of Mariah Carey belting ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ was really putting a damper on his already foul mood. It’s not that Mitch didn’t like Christmas, he was a member of Pentatonix, and he was sure as hell that if he hated Christmas he would be booted out of the band in a second, no he loved the holiday season. It wasn’t even that he didn’t like parties, no, even though the anxiety they gave him was almost crippling, good music and good alcohol was impossible to say no to, and besides this party was more on the mild side anyway. 

The answer to his foul mood was tall and skinny with sandy brown hair and brilliant green eyes and was cuddled up real close to Scott as they swayed drunkenly to the music, laughing heartily when Scott bumped into the wall. Mitch knew he should’ve avoided his eyes, he should’ve focused on Kirstie or Nicole or Esther or Kevin or someone other than Scott and Alex. Because the warmth inside Mitch’s stomach wasn’t from the hot cocoa that he was clutching in his hand, knuckles turning white with stress, but from the jealous rage at seeing Scott laughing and dancing and hugging and loving Alex. Alex. Not Mitch. 

And Mitch hated himself for wanting to hate Alex. Hell, Alex had been nothing but nice and welcoming to Mitch since the moment they met. He hadn’t even questioned Mitch and Scott living together, and how physically and emotionally close they were. He had been patient and kind with Mitch even when he was burning with jealousy (as he was now), even when he was rude and snappy with Alex. He was sweet, and sensitive, and an artist, and gentle, and everything Mitch wished he was, but wasn’t. When he had first met him, Mitch had wanted nothing more than for Alex to be a jerk so that way Mitch’s hatred (or desired hatred) could be justified, and he wouldn’t feel so guilty and ashamed of himself all the time. But that wouldn’t be fair to Scott. 

Mitch sighed and took a sip from his cocoa, not even flinching as the liquid burned his tongue. Maybe he was so jealous because he was single and Scott had a boyfriend. Mitch desperately needed to get some.  
But something about that didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t even want to be in a relationship at the moment, after all he was basically married to his career. He didn’t want a boyfriend, just thinking about the emotional toll a relationship would take on him made him weary with exhaust. Then why the hell was he so jealous of Scott and Alex?

Maybe, an evil little voice inside his head pried. Maybe it’s because you want to be Alex. You want Scott to kiss you, hug you, call you his boyfriend, be his and only his. He shut down the thought quickly, taking another, longer, sip of the cocoa. Letting the scalding liquid wash down his throat. It stung. He winced and shut his eyes tight. 

“Hey Mitchy. Are you okay?”

When Mitch opened his eyes he saw Scott. Tall and beautiful and blond and blue eyed and standing in front of him, while Alex stood leaning against the wall, checking his phone absentmindedly. The sudden appearance of his best friend and roommate shocked him, hot cocoa spilling out of his cup and burning his hand as he jumped with shock. 

“Shit,” he exclaimed. “Sorry Scott.” Of course the cocoa had splashed on Scott’s white sweater.

Mitch felt his face burn up with embarrassment. Why was he so clumsy and embarrassed all of a sudden? It’s not like his crush was standing in front of him or something...it was just Scott. 

Scott chuckled softly, looking down at his now stained sweater. “Aw, it’s okay,” he said with a shrug. “This sweater’s pretty worn out anyway.” He took the cup from Mitch’s hand and set it on the nearby table. “But seriously, are you okay? You’ve been standing here staring into space for like thirty minutes.” Scott’s eyes were glistening in the light and his eyebrows were furrowed with concern. 

Mitch wanted to look away, to ignore Scott. To keep wallowing in his own self-hatred and shame while Scott went back to kissing and dancing with Alex. He wanted to tell Scott he was fine, but something about the way the blond was gazing into his eyes, like he was the only person in the room, was taking his breath away. “No..” he murmured softly. 

Scott’s gaze saddened, and Mitch felt a pang in his heart at the fact that Scott was worried about him. “Do you want to talk to me? Mitch you’ve been silent all night and I’ve been worried to death about you,” Scott said softly. Mitch couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. He felt a shock of excitement run through his spine when Scott placed a gentle, yet firm, hand on his arm. Before Mitch could speak a protest, Scott coaxed him to his bedroom, where the lights were dim, the music was softer, and the thoughts stopped racing at high speed through Mitch’s head. 

Scott didn’t let go of Mitch’s arm until he sat him down on the bed. When Scott finally let go, he peeled his stained sweater off in a swift motion, Mitch’s eyes widening at the rippling of his stomach muscles. He tossed the sweater in the corner and haphazardly threw on another (possibly unwashed) old sweater. Mitch avoided his eyes as Scott sat down beside him, the bed shifting with the weight of the taller man. 

“Hey Mitchy, look at me,” Scott said softly. Mitch felt a soft hand cup his cheek, gently moving his face so that he was looking at Scott. “Mitch, please tell me what’s wrong.” 

Mitch felt his fists clench and unclench, the last fragments of his anxiety fading away now that he was far from Alex and the lights and the music. He shut his eyes tightly, opened them, shut them once more and opened them again, the fog of his mind clearing. He sighed deeply, his brown eyes swiveling to meet Scott’s blue ones. Just before he was about to open his mouth to speak, he noticed Scott’s baby blue sweater looked odd, the tag sticking up between the clavicles of his chest. 

Mitch stifled a giggle which made Scott’s eyes widen in surprise. “Scotty, your shirt is on backwards.”

Scott’s pale peach cheeks turned bright red in embarrassment, eyes crinkling and shining with laughter. “Oh my god,” he laughed. “Here I am trying to talk to you all serious, and my shirt’s on backwards.” He continued laughing as he peeled his shirt off and flipped it around, throwing it back on again. 

Mitch couldn’t help but laugh too. Something blossomed in his chest, a warm and comforting feeling, when Scott laughed and smiled his big goofy smile, and Mitch wanted to cuddle into his chest. The thought struck him and his face reddened. He cleared his throat as Scott’s laughter died down. “It’s okay, honestly. I don’t blame you, you and Alex must be really drunk to be dancing like that,” Mitch’s tone was biting without him meaning for it to be.

Either he was overaggerating, or Scott really was drunk, because the blond didn’t comment on it. “This party has been so much fun,” he just stated, his eyes distant, lost in thought. Then he turned to Mitch, confusion spreading across his face. “Everyone was here. It’s your favorite time of the year. There were drinks and food and great music, so why weren’t you talking to anyone?”

Anxiety clawed at Mitch’s heart again and he felt his pulse quicken. So Scott had noticed Mitch just standing in the corner. He probably had noticed Mitch glaring at Alex. Or at least watching the two of them dance and cuddle. He wanted to guard his feelings, but exhaustion was taking over his body again. So instead he shrugged and sighed. “I...I guess I haven’t been feeling like myself lately.”

Scott looked puzzled. “How come? Are you sick? Do you need anything?” His head was cocked and his eyes were large and clear and blue and his lips were soft and pink and- Mitch shook his head, clearing his wild thoughts. But god, was Scott so fucking adorable. 

“I’m not sick, I’ve just felt like-” he paused, not quite knowing how to put his feelings into words. “Just feeling lonely I guess.” Before Scott could interrupt him, he continued. “And yeah I know that there’s a whole crowd of my closest friends out there, but I just, I.. I don’t know. I just feel like nothing I say is interesting enough, nothing I do is good enough, because there’s this..” His voice trailed off. Shit, he had been rambling.

But Scott’s gaze was completely and utterly focused on no one else but him, and Mitch began to feel his heartbeat quicken. Mitch couldn’t do anything but stare breathlessly into Scott’s clear blue eyes for a second, realization washing over him. Fuck. 

Fuck.

Mitch Grassi was in love with Scott Hoying. 

Fuckfuckfuck were the thoughts running through Mitch’s head as he searched for a way out of the room. He couldn’t be with Scott right now. Not when he just realized why he had been feeling so jealous of Alex in the first place.

Scott and Mitch had briefly dated in high school, but there was no way in hell that was love. More like two confused gay best friends with absolutely no other options (or so Mitch thought). And so Mitch had just excused the little flutters of his heart, the warm fuzzy feelings, and the chills he got when he met Scott’s beautiful blue eyes, when Scott wrapped him in one of his unbelievably comforting hugs, when Scott brushed the bangs from his eyes and kissed him on the forehead, as normal feelings that really close friends get when they’re around each other. 

“Mitch?” 

Scott’s simple question snapped him out of his brief panic. “Hey, I lost you there for a second. Where’d you go, hun?”

Mitch’s eyes darkened and it took all the power he held to not cry in front of Scott. He just felt so small, helpless, and afraid. When he spoke his voice sounded small and far away. “Scott? Have you ever had someone in your life who you literally can’t function without? Without them you feel empty and alone? And you can’t stop thinking about them every single goddamn day? And without them by your side, you feel as though you’ve lost a part of yourself, in a way?” Mitch’s voice began wavering, his throat becoming tight and constricted.

Mitch felt Scott jolt suddenly, his sky blue eyes widening and face growing pale. “Yeah,” Scott said quietly, timidly. “I know how that feels.” His eyes darted to the floor, neck reddening with embarrassment. Then he snapped his attention back to the brunet. “But Mitch, who could be making you feel that way?”

Mitch furrowed his brow in confusion. He would give Scott the benefit of the doubt, and assume the alcohol was clouding his thoughts. He wasn’t that oblivious, was he? But maybe he hadn’t been obvious enough. He hesitated, biting his tongue to stop himself from revealing too much. 

“Mitch?” 

He was so persistent. He wanted to know what Mitch was thinking. Part of Mitch wanted to tell Scott everything. To bare his soul to the other man, even if he would regret it for the rest of his life. 

“Mitch, why won’t you talk to me?” Scott whined, reaching for Mitch’s hands. Mitch let him take his hands, strong fingers entwining through slender ones. “Did I do something?” 

Yes. You started dating Alex. And I’m too much of a coward to tell you how I really feel, and too much of a selfish jerk to let it go.

“Clearly someone is hurting you and I want to know who,” Scott persisted. “Mitchy, please.” Scott began reaching for Mitch’s hand again. “Talk to me.” 

Scott’s blue eyes shining with worry and fear for Mitch were the last straw. The floodgates would open, and Mitch would bare his volcano of a heart for Scott, no matter the cost. He could feel the anxiety welling up inside of him, unable to escape Scott and his concern. He wanted Scott to leave, to go back to Alex. Mitch didn’t deserve Scott’s concern. But he also wanted Scott to stay here, to hold him tight and never let him go. Why was he so selfish?

“Full disclosure Scott,” Mitch finally breathed out. “I think I love you.”

Scott looked puzzled. “Mitch, I love you too.” His nervous laughter at the end of his sentence meant that he had somewhat caught on to what Mitch was saying though.

Mitch shook his head, his face growing red with frustration and embarrassment. “No, Scott. I like you, like more than a friend. And I’m, I’m jealous, of Alex…and I want to be the one you’re with, who you love and I, it just, it makes me feel so terrible, god, but I can’t ignore it...I can’t understand or fight this feeling. I just-”

Mitch was stammering. Usually so well spoken, Mitch didn't know if his words were making any sense anymore. Scott had stood up suddenly, his stormy blue eyes growing dangerously cold. 

“No, Mitch,” Scott said, his eyebrows furrowed, clearly trying to make sense of Mitch’s words. “No full disclosure. No. Don’t do this to me. Mitch, you know how much I care about you, but I thought we had moved on. I moved on and I’m happy so why aren’t you? Do you realize how much I wanted you and you wouldn’t give me the time of day? And now that I’m finally happy you want me back? What the hell Mitch?” His words were clipped and Mitch could hear the confusion and anger in his voice. 

Mitch could feel his heart race, and suddenly the room began to heat up. When he stood to his feet, the room began to spin and it took all the power within him to not fall back onto the bed. He was standing to meet Scott, but the blond towered over him. 

“Scott, I’m sorry but you’re the one who asked how I felt!” Mitch exclaimed, voice rising in pitch. “Do you think I want to feel this way? Do you think I want to look at you and Alex everyday and feel nothing but shame and guilt over my own selfish desires? I don’t want to love you Scott! I want to be happy for you, and I am, but I’m so lonely...I just...things aren’t the same and I need you, god, I want…” 

Mitch began to sob and he fell back onto the bed, clenching his fists to stop the uncontrollable shaking. He didn’t look up but the bed didn’t move, indicating that Scott had remained standing instead of taking a seat beside Mitch. 

“I’m sorry..” Mitch whispered when Scott’s stifling silence continued. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

The bed dipped beside him and a gentle and strong arm wrapped around his shaking shoulders. “Shh,” came Scott’s voice, softly. “Mitchy…”

Scott was trying to sooth Mitch’s cries, but every gentle motion of Scott’s hand on his back just increased the sinking and gnawing feeling of guilt clawing at his stomach. “You should leave. You don’t have to pretend to feel bad for me,” Mitch said under his breath as his cries subsided.

“Mitch, I’m not going anywhere. Yeah, I’m upset with you right now, but you’re obviously in a lot of emotional turmoil right now and you need me. And no matter what, I’ll always care about you. More than you could ever know,” Scott replied softly. 

Mitch closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to lean into Scott’s chest, for the blond to wrap his strong arms around Mitch’s body and hold him while they fell asleep together. But of course, he couldn’t do that. Not after what he had just said. 

“You know I know how you feel. My feelings may be different now, but there was definitely a time in the past where I felt just how you’re feeling now. I felt those feelings about you,” Scott said wistfully. 

Mitch stilled at this. There was a time in the past where he had been in a relationship (with a man who was not all that great as a boyfriend or a human being in general) and Scott had been clingy and jealous. Mitch hadn’t realized it then, but Scott had been fighting his own feelings for Mitch. 

“I had time to work through my feelings. I let them go and I…” his voice trailed off, as if somehow in doubt. “I moved on. And I want you to be able to do the same.”

So Scott was forgiving Mitch. Scott understood Mitch and wanted him to be happy. But Mitch couldn’t be with Scott. Instead, they played this awkward little game, dancing around one another, where one was always in love with the other while they weren’t available. Mitch felt a dull pang in his heart. Would they ever meet each other in the middle, or were they destined to fall in and out of love for the rest of their lives? Something about the repetition of that routine for the rest of their lives (at least until they settled) didn’t sit right with Mitch, but he decided he couldn’t do much to fight it. 

After a few minutes of silence, lost in their own heads, Mitch finally spoke. “Why is telling the truth so hard?”

Scott chuckled softly. “I don’t know,” he said. “But there’s so much strength in being vulnerable.”

Mitch’s eyes widened in surprise at Scott’s oddly introspective comment. “What, did you find that on Pinterest or something and were looking for an opportunity to say it all day?”

Scott laughed and shook his head. Mitch couldn’t help but laugh too, Scott’s energy just too infectious. The blond sighed and pulled Mitch in closer to him. “Yeah, not sure where that came from. Ah, I think I’m just drunk.”

Mitch rolled his eyes playfully and smiled. He didn’t stop himself this time when he instinctively leaned into Scott’s chest, letting his head rest over the taller man’s heart, shutting his eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat. 

Exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day, the last thing Mitch heard was the soft humming of Pentatonix’s ‘Silent Night’ playing in the living room where the party was still carrying on before he drifted off into a gentle sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments and kudos if you like this work! As I said in the first chapter, I will be most likely be updating this work every Saturday, so stay tuned for the third chapter next week!


	3. Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for supporting this fic! As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!   
> Small note: this chapter takes place in 2015

“Sco-ooo-ttt!” Mitch sang out to the blond man. “Get me another one hennyy! Strong and snappy!” 

Scott looked exasperated as an already extremely drunk Mitch let out a hearty and full laugh, his half empty drink sloshing around in his cup. Something about the way Scott looked at him with an emotion Mitch couldn’t quite process (not in the state he was currently in) made him want to grab the blond and kiss him, but he still was somewhat socially aware and instead opted for wrapping his arms around Scott’ waist as the blond steadied him, leading them back to the bar area of the club.

The lights truly were blinding and with Mitch’s blurred vision, they danced around him in a multitude of beautiful colors, while the bass from the music blasted and thumped to the beat of his heart. A little too intoxicated, but feeling free, and having the time of his life. He hadn’t felt this good about himself in what felt like forever. 

Pentatonix had been touring across the US non stop and between shows there had been little time to explore, so all five of them took every opportunity to have a bit of fun when they weren’t sleeping, rehearsing, or writing new music. And on top of that, they had a documentary crew coming along with them to tape the full PTX tour experience. Everything was so enthralling that Mitch had been so overwhelmed. 

And so he and Scott had decided to take a stop at a little gay bar and club in Philly tonight, have some drinks, get drunk, dance, maybe hook up with a guy. Mitch could feel himself slipping further and further away with each passing week of tour, as the anxiety and stress piled up and drained all his energy. It wasn’t that he didn't like touring, no, touring was the most incredible experience of his life, but it was just that he needed a break. 

A break didn’t consist of sleeping and recharging his batteries. Nope. Mitch knew that’s what he craved, but he also wanted to come out of his shell a little, feel alive some more after the already exhilarating hours on stage. And so he’d get wasted, let himself go, and wake up the next morning full of regrets. But for now, he was having more fun than he’d had in months. 

“Alright,” Scott, who was significantly more sober, told Mitch. “One more drink, Mitch. And then you’re done for the night, okay?”

Mitch rolled his eyes as dramatically as he could. “Whatever,” he said with a sigh of defeat. “You’re no fun.” He leaned towards Scott and began playing with the blond’s hair. Scott smelled really fucking good. Mitch wanted to kiss him again. He didn’t. 

The bartender smiled and handed Mitch (who was practically sitting on Scott’s lap now) the drink. He was a bald man in his mid thirties with bright green eyes and a mustache that curled up at the ends, and he had a bright smile. His voice was a bit shrill when he spoke, full of excitement. “Oh my God, aren’t you guys from Pentatonix?”

Scott’s eyes lit up at the mention of their band name, and Mitch took a swig of the alcoholic beverage, nodding in response. “Yeah, yeah we are,” the blond replied, and Mitch could tell he was having a hard time trying to hide his giddy smile. 

The bartender grinned again, eyes crinkling. “Wow..just wow. You guys are incredible. Me and my boyfriend have been watching your YouTube videos and listening to your music since the beginning, and you guys are soooo cute together,” he fawned. “And for that, your drinks are free,” he said with a wink.

“Oh, we’re not-” Scott began, but Mitch interrupted him, wrapping an arm around Scott’s waist, their bodies so close he could hear the thump of Scott’s heartbeat. “Thank you so much!” Mitch exclaimed in response, taking another long sip of the drink. He could feel his head rushing, body buzzing with excitement. He felt bad about lying, but he’d do just about anything for a free drink.

The bartender smiled again, so wide that Mitch would be scared if he didn’t know any better. He felt Scott shift in the seat uncomfortably and suddenly he was being pulled off the taller man’s lap and turned around away from the bar. Scott waved a happy goodbye as he guided Mitch’s unstable footsteps back out towards the dance floor. “Come on, Mitchy,” Scott said gently. 

“Scotty,” Mitch said with a pout. “I wanna get another drink..”

Scott spun Mitch around so that they were facing each other, his hands firm on the brunet’s shoulders. “No. You’ve had enough.” His voice was panicky. But then he spoke, gentler, “Dance with me?” 

Mitch felt his heart skip a beat, a clever comeback or sly remark unable to leave his slightly parted lips. “Dance? With you?” He knew his words sounded rude, but he was too intoxicated to correct himself.

Scott, who was slightly drunk too, obviously didn’t catch this. “Yeah,” he breathed. Mitch could smell the alcohol on his breath. Strawberry martini breath, to be specific. Mitch actually didn’t mind it. It was kind of nice, pleasant. He rolled his eyes, and smirked. 

Scott was crazy. He and Mitch didn’t dance together. They danced in the same vicinity, but not as a pair, not this close, noses mere centimeters away, breath hot on one another's faces.They danced together, but not like this, not in the way Scott was currently offering to dance. His question had been ‘dance with me’, not ‘dance next to me’, after all. There was a clear difference between the two. 

But maybe dancing with Scott wouldn’t be so crazy after all. Mitch’s brief period of jealousy and attraction to Scott had subsided, and even after Alex and Scott had broken up, neither Scott or Mitch had entertained the idea of getting into a relationship together, despite all the hints they gave their viewers during episodes of Superfruit. However, under the lights, flickering green and purple, blue and pink, Scott looked ethereal. Mitch blinked slowly, Scott’s beauty and light completely and utterly consuming him. If Scott was any other man, Mitch would’ve made out with him by now.

The bass of the song was pulsing through the floorboards, and Mitch felt as though his heart was pumping along to the beat. He couldn’t help himself as he swayed to the beat, feet shuffling and head bobbing up and down. Scott was grinning and joining him in the awkward motion, his face flushed with embarrassment. 

“Do you like the song?” Mitch asked. He liked the song. He couldn’t quite understand the words, as his brain was feeling woozy and he couldn’t decipher the lyrics. It seemed to have a catchy tune. He began dancing more, his feet picking up a pace.

Scott laughed, and began to move his arms to the beat. They were both terrible at dancing, but Scott was clearly enjoying himself, especially since Mitch was enjoying himself. It didn’t help that they were both drunk, so the room seemed to be empty, and it was almost like they were back in their apartment, just the two of them, dancing wildly to the Beyonce album. “Yeah, I like the song,” Scott answered, a bit too loudly, as the music blasted. “It’s Cologne by Clean Bandit, I think.”

Mitch snorted with laughter. “It’s really catchy,” Mitch exclaimed, voice straining over the music. “Pentatonic, Pentacon..Penta..” his brain struggled to formulate the words, and his tongue was becoming mushy in his mouth. “We should cover it!” The song increased in tempo and Mitch could feel his pulse quicken. He began grooving his hips to the music now, completely lost in it. 

Now it was Scott’s turn to laugh. Mitch could see Scott’s eyes well with tears, watching Mitch dance ridiculously as if he was the only person in the room. After his fit of laughter dyed down, he nodded and grabbed Mitch’s waist, steadying the smaller man before he fell and hurt himself, the alcohol in his veins making him stumble as he danced. “Yeah, we should! You’d sound really good in it, because, well you always sound good. Sooo gooood.”

Mitch felt a rush of passion and excitement pulse in his veins as Scott’s strong arms steadied him from stumbling. “Woah there, don’t fall over,” Scott mused. He smiled, his cheeks turning bright red. “Not as good as you, Mitchy.”

The smaller man grinned. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his own arms around the blond’s neck, sway to the beat, slam their lips together, and...his thoughts trailed off, drunk and dirty. He lowered his gaze and took one last drink of his vodka. 

Scott cocked his head and smirked. “There’s still anything in that cup?” His eyes looked concerned, which confused Mitch. The brunet had never felt safer than he was here in Scott’s arms.

“Ice melted,” Mitch replied matter-of-factly. “So it’s like uh...another drink?” 

Scott let out a chuckle. “So, watered down alcohol?”

“If it gets the job done, then it’s good enough for me,” Mitch deadpanned. This made Scott laugh some more. Was he actually being funny? Mitch couldn’t tell why Scott was laughing so much. Maybe he was nervous. Or he was also drunk, drunker than Mitch had previously thought. 

“What job?” Scott teased. His expression was coy, as if he already knew what Mitch was talking about. 

“Drunk enough that I won’t remember what...or who...I did the next morning,” Mitch said with a satisfied smile. Colors and music and people were blurring around him. But here was Scott, a steady force saving Mitch from his own drunk impulses. 

Scott shook his head. “Okay, I’m drunk too, but not so drunk I’m completely unaware of it. No more drinks for you tonight, Mitchy. We’re here to have a good time, not an irresponsible time.”

Usually, Scott’s light scolding of him would’ve made Mitch snap at the blond, but something about the pure and complete caring and love in his voice made something in Mitch’s heart and stomach stir. I’d like to have an irresponsibly good time with you…

Mitch wrapped his arms, long and spindly, around Scott’s neck, their faces inching closer together. He could feel Scott’s breath now, hot on his cheek. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Scott smelled so fucking good..

Your cologne and the bass is making my heart beat insane, the song played out.

Mitch snorted. Amen.

He wanted to kiss Scott. No, he was going to kiss Scott. After all, it was only them in the room. What was the worst that could happen to them if he did?

Like a tidal wave crashing against a seaside cliff, Mitch slammed his lips into Scott’s, his chest aching with love, his stomach burning with desire. Scott’s lips were soft and sweet against his and Mitch wanted more, but the blond pulled away gently, making a small sound of protest.

If Scott’s face had been red before, it was bright scarlett. There was an emotion shining in his eyes that Mitch couldn’t quite place, and it made him curious as to what was going on inside Scott’s head. “Mitch…” Scott breathed. He grabbed Mitch’s hand before the brunet could fall over, and Mitch could feel he was shaking with shock as he guided Mitch through the crowd to the back of the bar. 

When they were far enough from everyone that if they considered kissing again, they wouldn’t be noticed, Scott loosened his grip on Mitch’s hand and turned to face him, his breath heavy, eyes wide. “Mitch?” He asked. “What did you do?”

Mitch, who was leaning against the wall now, trying to steady his spinning head, just smirked. This only made Scott’s already bewildered expression even more confused. “I kissed you, dumbass.” 

Scott rolled his eyes, but Mitch could see the hint of a smile that crossed his lips. So he had enjoyed the kiss. Mitch could feel his body heating up with desire, itching to have his lips on Scott’s again.

“Wait,” Scott cautioned as Mitch moved in closer. “Mitchy, I want you to tell me how you really feel before we kiss again. Because I know you’re drunk, and I don’t want you to regret this in the morning.” 

Mitch stilled. Way to damper the mood Scott, he wanted to say. But every word that came out of Scott’s mouth was from a place of love and understanding, and this simple fact made Mitch’s desire to kiss the blond increase even more. 

“Please?” Scott asked, eyes shining. “Let me know if this is real? Do you really want to do this?” Scott paused, taking Mitch’s hands in his and holding them over his heart. 

Mitch felt his mouth go dry. If he was sober, he would’ve chickened out and found some excuse not to continue whatever this was with Scott, but the alcohol, the lights, and the music was making his emotions run at an all time high, and all he wanted was to express his feelings, all of them, the good, the bad, and the ugly, to Scott tonight. 

“Scott, you know I love you,” Mitch confessed. “And I don’t know what it is about this place, or, or, maybe I’m just that drunk, but I want you more than anything right now. And it seems that lately all I’ve been doing is spending my time thinking about you, and I don’t know why. I fall asleep, and you’re in my dreams. I wake up, and you’re here. And when you’re not with me, I can’t stop thinking about you, I-” Mitch paused to catch his breath as he let his feelings pour out. “I want this, I want us, and...tell me you feel the same, because..”

Mitch was answered by Scott’s soft palms cupping his face, the blond’s lips locking into his. Mitch felt his heart burst, Scott’s kiss long and passionate and exhilarating. Mitch returned the kiss, but Scott broke away gently before Mitch could take it further. Why was he so hesitant?

“You know I want this too, Mitch,” Scott whispered, his breath heavy. “But we can’t…” he paused. “We can’t risk it. We can’t risk falling into this routine again…me loving you and you leaving me...you loving me and me leaving you..not when our friendship is stronger than it ever has been.”

The words were like a blow to Mitch’s chest. So Scott was denying him. Since when had he become the sensible one? Disappointment washed over him like rain. “I know, we can’t do it. We can’t try at love again. Not when it failed before. Not when I have such strong feelings for you, and you for me. But one night, one night, just you and me? How much can that really hurt?” Is your love and attention really too much to ask?

Scott’s eyes darkened, and a small, almost incomprehensible sound left his lips, a signal that he couldn’t stop this undeniable tension and attraction between them tonight. Mitch could see Scott’s expression changing with inner turmoil, but when Scott leaned in again, pressing his lips to Mitch’s, this time with even more force, more lust, more desire, Mitch knew it was all over.

They were only friends. That’s all they ever could be, Mitch had learned this over all the years they had spent together. But that didn’t make him want Scott any less. And tonight, if only for this one night of passion, he would have him.


	4. Nostalgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for leaving kudos! Quick note there’s a pretty big time jump from last chapter which took place in 2015, and this chapter, which takes place in 2018! Hope you all are enjoying this fic! Please leave kudos and comments if you like it! Your feedback is greatly appreciated!  
> Also side note- I’m also uploading this on Wattpad under the account name sup3rleaf, if you wanna check it out there. :)

The echo of the bass rang through his chest, in sync with his heartbeat. In and out, in and out his breaths went, the blues and yellows and pinks of the lights dimming as he felt the high of performing simmer down. Mitch could feel Scott’s breath heavy on his face, as they stood frozen in time, the show ending, the sounds of their fans cheering dying down, the night coming to a close. He could tell their energies were matching, hearts beating in sync, just as their voices had been in tune with each other mere seconds ago. It was exhilarating. If Mitch could capture this feeling and bottle it up so that it could be available to him whenever he needed it, he would. As the lights died down to absolutely nothing, his cheeks began to ache from smiling, and his eyes began to tear up from the blinding of the lights. 

“That was a great show guys!” came the cheery voice of their tour manager, her dark eyes wide with lack of sleep, but full of joy nonetheless. 

“Thanks!” Scott said, the same joy unmistakeable in his voice, albeit a bit scratchy and quiet from overuse. He turned to Mitch, brilliant blue eyes shining with excitement, the aftermath of the performance, pulling the brunet man close to him. Mitch leaned into Scott, resting his head on the blond’s shoulder, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, his grin subsiding into a soft, gentle smile. He peered up at Scott as the blond guided them off the stage and back to their dressing room, smiling softly, and proudly, back at him. “Wow, Mitchy, you sounded amazing tonight!”

Mitch laughed and shut the door softly behind him, fidgeting with his in-ears and taking off his blazer. “Really?” Mitch asked jokingly. “I thought I was a little pitchy.” 

Scott turned around, and laughed. “Yeah, you were a little off key. Just a little bit.” 

Mitch cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips, playing along with Scott. “Yeah, but you..you were just not doing your best tonight. Like I don’t want to be that person, but you just didn’t sound good…”

Scott burst into laughter, and Mitch found it hard to keep his giggles in as well. To anyone else, their conversation would’ve sounded confusing as they pretended to degrade one another, but Mitch knew Scott’s mind better than he knew his own, and he was fluent in their own secret language. As Scott keeled over, laughing with exhaustion and joy, still riding the high from the end of the show, Mitch grabbed a hold of the taller man’s elbow, steadying him. He snuggled closer towards Scott, as they flopped down on the dressing room couch, noticing the heavy rise and fall of the blond’s chest and the sweat soaked fabric of his button-up from the intense night of performing. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Mitch allowed himself to be here, in the moment, with Scott, his heart content. 

“You know, I was joking, right?” Scott urged. “You sounded incredible. Like you always do.” 

Mitch leaned his head against Scott’s chest, tilting it upward so his eyes met the blond’s. “Of course, stupid,” he teased, reaching to pat Scott’s cheek gently. “And thank you, you sounded incredible as well.” 

They had spent a few months like this, on the Superfruit Future Friends tour. Just the two of them. Going on tour in small bars around the country, it was a nice break from the high-demand, high-energy tour lifestyle they were used to. This was more relaxed, more laid back. Mitch noticed that he and Scott were able to have more fun, be more flamboyant, more risque, during these performances. They’d grinded up on each other during Bad 4 Us, caressed one another’s faces in Keep Me Coming, and gazed longingly into one another’s eyes in Future Friends. The intimate venue and smaller crowd was a nice change as well, allowing them to freely express themselves in any way they pleased.

For a while they laid there, letting themselves relax and breathe and mull over the events of the show. After a moment of catching their breaths, Scott wrapped an arm around Mitch and turned to him, laughing gently. “You’ve got glitter in your eyelashes, Mitchy.” 

Mitch rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said with a playful grin. “Honestly, where aren’t we covered in glitter?”

Scott just snorted in reply. He sighed, adjusting his body so that he was sitting more upright. Exhaustion was beginning to take a hold of both of them. Mitch took the hint and shifted off of his chest, moving so he was sitting up as well. Their intimate moment of silence was over and it was time to go back to reality. Something about that made Mitch’s heart sink, but he brushed the feeling off with a shake of his head. He reached for his phone on the coffee table, sorting through messages from friends and family, until he found a few texts from Beau. Mitch felt his face flush red as he read the texts. His boyfriend had certainly been missing him these past few weeks, and he was more than excited at the prospect of Mitch coming back to LA next week. Mitch took a sip of water to cool the anxious and heated thoughts in his head, explicit images of he and Beau together dancing through his mind.

“I’m gonna head back to the hotel, do you wanna come with me?” Scott asked as he stood up and stretched, Mitch making an effort not to notice the way his muscles flexed underneath the thin and brightly colored fabric of his shirt. 

“Sure, just give me a minute, I need to text Beau back,” Mitch responded. Scott nodded almost solemnly and quietly exited the room. As he watched the blond leave, his head felt foggy and he couldn’t quite remember what he had been planning to do in the first place. After staring at the screen, which was opened to show Beau’s messages, Mitch sighed in defeat and turned off his phone. Even after reading and rereading his boyfriend’s sexually charged messages, Mitch couldn’t think of a single thing to write back. Exhaustion washed over him like a wave, and as if in a trance he began to exit the room and make his way to the parking lot where he sat in his car and drove off, unsure of where he was going.

As he drove down the quiet street, lights of all colors blurring past him, his thoughts seemed to race. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart at leaving Beau on read, but he couldn’t bring himself to send his boyfriend a half-hearted message. Not when his heart was longing for something else tonight.

Mitch loved Beau, he really did. And Beau absolutely adored Mitch. Dating Beau had been a sudden change of pace for him, but the other man had shown him the world, introducing him to new things and helping him unlock a side of himself filled with so much confidence that he never knew existed before. Mitch felt like a new person with Beau. A free person. A daring person. A little bit dangerous, a little bit wild. Mysterious and cunning. Creative and bold. And that was one part of Mitch, the half of him living for tomorrow, looking to the future, growing and changing and reinventing himself all on his own.

But lately it seemed to Mitch that he was living life as two different versions of himself. And when he was with Pentatonix, especially when he was around Scott, he felt the pull and tug of his old self, a softer, more innocent version of himself. A part of himself that still laughed at stupid jokes and danced like no one was watching, even though he was terrible at it. A part of him that wanted nothing more than to cuddle into Scott’s chest and watch Spongebob together until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. A part of him that was still the small child infatuated with Scott back in Arlington. 

Mitch knew there was nothing between him and Scott anymore. The amount of times they’d fallen in and out of love with one another, never meeting each other halfway, was enough to make Mitch cry with exhaustion. The burning hot desires and heavy-hearted longing he’d held for Scott in the recent past had since fizzled, especially after finding Beau to fill these gaping holes in his heart. And although he spent more time at Beau’s than he and Scott’s house as of late, he couldn’t ignore the warm fuzzy feelings in his heart and the butterflies in his stomach whenever he was around Scott. The feeling of home, or family, of warmth and safety and unconditional love. 

And as Mitch pulled into the parking lot of the hotel they were staying at for this week, he realized what he wanted. To live in the past, for just a night. He wanted Scott’s blue eyes fixated on him, the sound of the taller man’s gentle laughter, the way they just fit together so naturally, as if there was nothing in the world they were better at. He wanted cuddles and Spongebob marathons and listening to the Beyonce album on repeat and getting drunk off their asses on half-decent wine. He wanted his best friend back.

Was it too much to ask for? Mitch thought to himself as he gently rapped his knuckles on Scott’s hotel room door. Do you wanna watch Spongebob and talk about our feelings while drinking wine or coffee or something because I miss you and I need a friend and you're the best friend I’ve ever had and you make me feel at home, were the words running through Mitch’s head. He recited them over and over as he waited for Scott to answer. 

The tall blond man opened the door gently after a minute of silence, his eyes bleary with exhaustion. 

“Mmm..Mitch?” He managed to stammer out. 

“I’m sorry,” Mitch replied, his words worried. “Is this a bad time?” 

Scott frowned and shook his head. “S’not a problem,” he slurred out. Had he been drinking? “Whatta ya need, Mitchy?”

Mitch felt his face heat up in embarrassment. “Do you want to have a Spongebob marathon?”

Scott’s blue eyes grew more alert at this, and they flickered with something that made Mitch think of childhood, and suddenly they were two kids again, exploring and facing the world together. “Yeah, yeah! That’s something we haven't done in a long time.”

As Scott held the door open for him, Mitch shrugged. “What can I say, I think I’m feeling a bit nostalgic.” He walked into the room gently, heading towards the queen bed where he made himself comfortable, cocooning himself in the heavy white sheets.

Scott rubbed his eyes and made his way over to the bed as well, nestling in beside Mitch. As the brunet flipped through the channels to find Nickelodeon, he noticed how Scott’s heavy eyelids were drooping, fighting against the gentle pull of sleep. There was something almost puppy-like about the way the blond would doze off in tiny increments, as he let his head rest beside Mitch's.  
The sound of Spongebob’s shrill voice startled Scott awake however, and Mitch let out a soft chuckle. He turned the volume down a bit, as this wasn’t really about Spongebob at all. This was about them and their friendship. 

“You know I’ve missed you,” Mitch confessed softly. “I love Beau, and I’m sorry my relationship takes time away from us, but I’m trying my best, and sometimes I get distracted. I want you to know that I care about you so much, Scotty, you’re still my best friend, and you always will be.” 

Scott’s blue gaze swiveled to meet Mitch’s, his eyes widening with emotion. “Mitch,” he whispered. “Aw, it’s okay. And you know I’ve missed you too.”

Mitch felt his eyebrows crease in worry. He placed a gentle hand on Scott’s cheek, turning to face him directly. “Scott, really, I’m sorry. You know how new relationships go, you get caught up in the heat of it all, and it’s hard to focus on anything else. But I promise you, that I’ll try to make more time for you, and for Superfruit, even after this tour and everything is all over.” 

Scott shook his head, his eyes full of understanding. “Mitch, you don’t have to apologize, it’s okay. I understand how you feel. And even if something comes up, and, and you have to choose Beau over me or anything, I’ll be okay, really.” 

Mitch smiled warmly. “Scotty, what would I do without you?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Well your life would be hella boring, that’s for sure.”

“Oh yeah sure,” Mitch rolled his eyes back, his tone turning from sweet and gentle to playful and sarcastic. “I bet you couldn’t survive one second without me, so you’re one to assume.”

Scott laughed and threw his arms around Mitch, pulling the brunet closer. For once the decreasing amount of space between them didn’t make Mitch nervous with all the bottled up emotions he kept inside. He only felt warm and safe, as Scott embraced him. After several seconds of silence, both of them lost in their thoughts, Mitch broke the silence with a small, “can I ask you something?” 

An ‘mmhmm’ sound came from the blond. “Of course.”

“I’m so thankful for you, I really am,” Mitch confessed. “I don’t know what it is about tonight, but I’ve been feeling a lot of intense feelings, and everything feels so right, and I’m not sure if what I’m making makes sense, but I’m so thankful for you Scotty. I know I’ve been distant, but there are times that I need you, but I don’t know what to say, so I’ll say them now. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. We’ve been through hell and back and we’re still friends after all these years. So, can you promise me this? Promise me that even if we drift apart, even if we forget how to say our true feelings, that you’ll let me back in when I need you? And I promise I’ll always be there for you when you need it, really. Because I think we’re each other's home Scott. And I’m not exactly sure what that means, but promise me you won’t throw away the key even if I leave. Let me back in. Again and again. Even if you hurt me, even if I hurt you. Can you promise me that?” 

Scott’s eyes were wide with wonder and understanding, and Mitch could see tears forming in the blue irises. It was like Mitch’s words had melted all of his doubts and fears away. “I promise,” he responded with a smile, sweet and calming. He extended his pinkie out for Mitch to take in his, an official promise.

Mitch understood and wrapped his pinkie around Scott’s, nodding in solidarity. After a moment of thought, Mitch let go, letting his hand drop to his side, turning to face the tv, Scott doing the same. 

As the night drifted on, they watched season after season of Spongebob, and as Mitch drifted off into unconsciousness a couple hours after Scott had fallen asleep soundly, memories of the two of them as teenagers played over and over in his head like VHS tapes of old home videos. 

***

Sometime long ago when they were barely beginning to understand themselves, they had been laying facing each other, their eyes wide with wonder and love, pinkies intertwined in a promise. 

“Do you promise not to leave me? Even after you graduate? Even when I’m alone, can you let me call you, can you call me? Will you be there? Do you promise?” Mitch had asked with a shaking voice, eyes pleading for reassurance.

Resting his forehead against Mitch’s to calm the younger boy’s racing heartbeat and rising anxieties, Scott had responded firmly and slowly, “I promise.”


	5. Indignation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a very strong love-hate relationship with this chapter, because I love the way it’s written but I hate what’s it’s about.   
> This chapter takes place in early 2020.

Wisps of smoke were floating around him, and the haze of the high was beginning to fog his mind. He began to relax, his anxiety halting and his thoughts clearing despite the smoke he was inhaling. His mind wandering, the view from his balcony was the only thing keeping his mind from thinking of anything else. The sunset began to bleed into the mountains and palm trees, as the moon began to rise. 

It was on evenings like these where Mitch found himself in a haze, emotions a second from spiraling out of control. Usually the smoke would help calm his mind and he would be okay in the morning. However, tonight felt different. He hadn’t felt this alone in a while, his thoughts the only company he had tonight, and that just wasn’t enough. Maybe he could call Beau, but things had been tense between them lately and he could feel their love slipping through his fingers like quicksand. 

Tears stung in his eyes like little needles, and he took another shaky breath, smoke filling his nostrils again. His eyes watered and his head pounded, but he could feel the heavy weight lift off of his chest just a little bit. 

He watched the little people below take their evening strolls. Hand in hand, he watched a couple wander through the streets. They laughed at something and Mitch wondered what they were saying. The man was tall and blond and had a scruffy short beard. And he looked very happy. He looked like Scott. 

Something about that made Mitch’s heart quicken and he stood up suddenly, his thoughts racing. His thoughts were jumbled, and his heart racing, but he watched himself reach for his phone, as if separated from his body, and dial a number. 

What am I doing? He asked himself. No, no, no, stop, he ordered himself, but the phone was ringing and it wouldn’t stop. 

Scott was probably happy at home with his boyfriend Mark. Cooking dinner and snuggling and watching television and being soft and domestic and completely and utterly in love and would never answer the phone even if it was Mitch Grassi who was calling. 

But why was Mitch calling Scott? He didn’t even necessarily want to talk to his former best friend, but he couldn’t stop the phone, and he needed someone, anyone, to talk to. And Scott had always been there for him before, so why should it be any different now?

Mitch shook his head. Everything had changed. Scott and Mitch weren’t Scomiche or even Superfruit anymore. They had different interests, different goals, and although they were still friends, they didn’t belong to each other anymore. They weren’t soulmates, they weren’t each other’s one and only, and Mitch could feel them drifting further and further apart with each passing day.

And it wasn’t Scott’s fault. It wasn’t Mark’s fault. It wasn’t Mitch or Beau or anyone’s fault. There was no one to blame, it was just the way that things were, and maybe that’s why Mitch was always so infuriated over Scott. Because he couldn’t stop what was happening to them, and he couldn’t blame anyone for it either. 

“Mitch?”

Mitch’s heart dropped when he heard Scott’s voice. Clear and concerned. And so familiar too. There was something nostalgic and comforting about it, a feeling Mitch hadn’t felt in a long time, and he wanted to hear it again.

“Mitch, is that you?” Scott asked again, his voice a bit more clipped this time. 

“Scott..” Mitch said breathlessly. 

“Are you okay?” Scott asked. “Do you need something? Why are you calling?”

Mitch felt the last sentences hit him like a bullet, his heart dropping. Because they didn’t call one another anymore unless they were in trouble. Because they didn’t talk to one another unless they were in the same room together and had nothing better to do. They never hung out unless it was with the rest of Pentatonix. So what right did Mitch have to be calling Scott at this hour? 

It took him a few seconds to find the words but Mitch replied, “No, no. I don’t need anything.” He paused again, trying to think carefully about what to say, but at some point his mind just stopped and his heart took over. “No, you know what. I do need something. Scott, I need a friend. I need you.”

Scott was silent, possibly with shock, from how forward and blunt Mitch had been. “Mitch I-”

Mitch didn’t let him continue though, his heart pounding as the high was settling, and his emotions spiraling out of control now that he wasn’t in a daze. “No, no, no. Scott, please, Scott listen to me. I don’t...I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t do this. I can’t be alone anymore, please. Scott, you know, I’ve tried, I’ve tried to do it. Tried to be alone, just myself, and to be happy that way, but I’m just so damn needy, and I don’t think I can do it. Not without getting high or drunk or forgetting my feelings for just one-”

“Are you high?” Scott asked, frustration rippling through his voice. “Or..or drunk right now?”

Mitch bit his tongue before answering. Scott had never been particularly fond of Mitch’s newest habit, and despite how much Mitch told himself he could care less about Scott’s opinion, he found himself full of shame and guilt whenever Scott looked at him like he was someone he didn’t recognize. 

“I-I’m not,” Mitch stuttered. “Not high. Not right now. And no, I’m not drunk either.” He took a deep breath, trying to fight back frustrated tears. “And I’m not done talking to you, so can you just listen to me please? Just be here, and, um, listen.”

Scott made a small sound of protest but Mitch continued talking anyway. “I want you to come over. Or maybe I can come over please? And I want to know that you’re here for me, I need to know that. And we can maybe have some drinks, watch some tv just like old times? I just...I miss the times we had and I miss us and I-”

“No Mitch you can’t do this to me!” Scott shouted. He took a beat of silence to catch his breath and Mitch could hear his footsteps as he left one room and stopped in another, shutting the door behind him. Mitch imagined Mark watching his boyfriend leave so suddenly in a hurry, his dark and gentle eyes full of concern for the love of his life, who never was this distressed. Mitch began to silently tell himself it was time to leave but something about Scott getting upset over him made him want to shout back because dammit why did Scott get to be happy and get everything he had ever wanted while Mitch could hardly force a smile these days?

“Do what to you Scott?” Mitch shouted back. “Am I simply that much of a burden to you now? All I’m asking is for you to come over and talk to me, why the fuck would I be asking you to do anything else?”

Scott was quiet for a heartbeat. “Mitch, I can’t. I can’t drop everything and go help you feel better. Last time I did that I couldn’t get you off my mind for nine years.” He paused, his voice dropping lower and softer. “Mitch, I do care about you, but I can’t come over. And I can’t be what you want me to be.”

Mitch felt bile rise in his throat. What was Scott insinuating? That he was asking for sex? That he wanted Scott as anything more than a friend? Had they been that distant lately that Scott the fine line between friendship and love they had teetered across for so long had been completely eradicated? “Who the hell do you think you are Scott Hoying? And who the hell do you think I am?” Mitch practically screamed into the phone, his voice growing hoarse. “All I want is a friend, Scott.”

“You seemed to have plenty of other friends beside me last time I checked,” Scott growled. “Why don’t you go call them up to get drunk and high with you?”   
Mitch clenched his hands into fists, his fingernails pressing into his palms so hard he could feel them indenting his skin. He opened his mouth to speak but Scott continued ranting.

“Why do you only want to spend time with me when you’re upset and you need something? When I’m happy and settled and you’re feeling bored and restless? Why is that, Mitch?”

Mitch inhaled sharply, tears stinging the backs of his eyes, threatening to cascade down his cheeks. Anger brewed inside of him like a stove top flame, his stomach churning so much he felt like he was going to hurl. “Are you that self centered? Scott? Are you really that arrogant that you think I want to be with you in that way? And you think I’m that selfish?” He could feel his chest heaving, the last words coming out as broken sobs. “What happened to us?”

Scott made a small noise that must’ve been him clearing his throat. “What happened to us, Mitch? Why don’t you ask yourself that question? I’m not the one who left us for a boy, am I?” 

“Oh what, like it was illegal for me to have a relationship? Just because we were both single back then didn’t mean I belonged to you Scott, are you kidding me?” Mitch could feel his heart breaking into more and more little pieces, anger and frustration welling up inside of him and threatening to spill out. 

“I don’t want you Mitch!” Scott yelled. 

“And I don’t want you!” Mitch screamed back. 

After a split second of silence, both of them breathing heavily, emotionally exhausted and full of rage, Mitch continued. “Forget I called you. You clearly don’t care about me, Scott. You won’t even listen to me, and I don’t know why you can’t seem to understand what I’m saying.” Mitch heaved in a shaky breath, salty tears wetting his cheeks and eyelashes. “And all I wanted was a friend, but you’re so moved on that you’d rather forget everything. Including me.”

Scott was quiet for a few seconds. When he spoke, he sounded broken, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m sorry, Mitch.” 

And that was all he said. Where was the rest of the apology? Where was the follow up about how Mitch was right and how Scott had misunderstood everything? Where was the promise that he’d always be here for Mitch, that he was coming over and they were okay, everything would be okay? Where was the ‘we’ll always be friends Mitch, I’m here for you no matter what’? Mitch sat in anticipation waiting and waiting and waiting

And after several heartbeats of silence it still never came. And Mitch wanted to cry. What a fool he was.

“Mitch?”

But Mitch didn’t want to hear Scott’s voice anymore. “Okay,” he whispered, voice hoarse and heart broken. “Okay, I’m leaving. Bye.” Without hearing Scott’s response, he hung up. 

He felt rage and sorrow stir within him and in defeat he flung his phone across the room where it landed softly on the bed. He felt tears rushing down his cheeks, longing for someone, for anyone. He had always been very introverted, but he still couldn’t stand being alone for too long, and these past few months had taken a toll on him. 

And he had poured his heart out to Scott, he had been open and honest with him, about what he wanted, something he hadn’t been in a while, and Scott had read all the signals wrong. It was like they were strangers now. 

He didn’t want Scott to take up too much of his life like the tall blond man had in the past. He needed room to grow and find himself, and despite how brightly Scott shone, it had been blinding Mitch from his own goals and desires. But he still wanted his old best friend. That was really all he had been wanting recently. A friend. 

But he guessed even that was too much to ask for these days.


	6. Absence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry I didn’t update this for a while. Here’s the last chapter, I’m really sorry this fic has been a sad mess :,)

Mitch was standing in the hallway of Scott’s humble mansion, rocking back and forth on his heels absentmindedly, taking in the view. The Hoying-Manio household wasn’t too large, but it certainly was very nice, and Mitch found himself noticing all the little details hidden in every nook and cranny, showing the gentle and affectionate love that Scott and Mark held for one another. From framed photos to cliche romantic gifts laid on shelves for display, the large and sleek house Scott had originally bought when they moved out of the Superfruit house had been turned into a cozy and pleasant home ever since Mark had moved in. 

“You okay, Mitch?” 

The voice was familiar, and it sent a wave of chills down his spine. Of course the voice was Scott’s, who was standing in the entrance of the hallway, arm wrapped around Mark affectionately. The rest of Pentatonix was already gathered in the living room, talking excitedly. Mitch had yet to join them, having arrived later than everyone else. He had said it was because of the traffic, but no one ever went out that much anymore, so Mitch was sure they all knew he had been lying. 

In reality, he had spent about a half hour restlessly pacing the length of his house, (still a bit unorganized from just having moved in a few months prior), fighting his anxiety over this music video shoot. A music video shoot wasn’t what he was anxious about of course, he wasn’t the least bit camera shy. It was the fact that this particular music video shoot was going to take place in the Hoying-Manio household. 

And what frustrated Mitch the most was that he had no idea why his anxiety was spiking all of a sudden. He wasn’t intimidated or afraid of Mark. Mark was kind and sweet and gentle and respectful and very friendly towards Mitch. They hadn’t talked much, but when Mitch had been hanging out with Scott earlier in the year, he had been calm and collected, and a wonderful host to Mitch, always welcoming and accommodating. Maybe Mitch hadn’t been anxious earlier because he had Beau and Scott had Mark. And now, Mitch had no one. 

Eventually, Mitch had gathered his courage and left for Scott’s house. And here he was, still shaking off feelings of apprehension. He felt like an intruder, for some reason, as if no one wanted him here, even though his closest friends and bandmates were all gathered in the other room, waiting for him.

Mitch realized he had left Scott and Mark waiting and turned to them quickly, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said half-heartedly. “I’m fine. Your house looks amazing, by the way. You’ve done a lot more to it since I was here last.”

Scott chuckled. “Thanks,” he said smiling, and pride was shining in his eyes. “Sometimes I’ll spend hours shopping online for the most random little things, but Mark doesn't mind, he thinks they’re cute.”

Mark grinned, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “Yeah you’re lucky you’re cute, spending all that money.” He turned towards Mitch. “Quarantine has made him a little crazy, if you couldn’t tell.”

Mitch smirked. “I’m not surprised.”

Mark laughed, his eyes shining with love when he looked at Scott. “I’m going to go make everyone some drinks, okay?” He informed Scott and Mitch. 

“Thanks babe, that’d be great!” Scott exclaimed. “We’ll join the rest of you guys in a bit?”

Mark nodded, planting a quick kiss on the blond’s cheek before heading back towards the kitchen. 

Scott’s blue eyes were still shining and his cheeks were still rosy as he walked over closer to Mitch. As he stepped closer, Mitch could feel his throat becoming constricted, suddenly feeling overcome with emotions that he didn’t quite understand or even want to decipher the meaning of. He wanted to cry or scream or laugh, he wasn’t exactly sure, but he swallowed his feelings and raised his head to meet Scott’s gaze, which was becoming more worrisome by the second. 

“Seriously though Mitch, are you okay?” Scott asked, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. 

Mitch furrowed his brow, darting his eyes so they didn’t meet the blue eyes staring into him. Scott had always been able to see through him, but they weren’t the same anymore. Scott didn’t need to know how Mitch felt, especially when Mitch didn’t understand his own feelings at all anymore. “I’m fine. Why, what made you ask?” Mitch said, his tone unintentionally snappy. 

Scott’s reaction was one of hurt. Now it was his turn to dart his gaze away from Mitch. “I was just making sure you were okay, you know. I care about you. You know that right? And besides, this year has been incredibly hard on everyone, so I’m not expecting you to be okay right now.”

Mitch blinked in surprise, some kind of strange feeling blossoming inside his chest at Scott’s words. Why was it so surprising to hear that his best friend still cared about him? Could they even still call themselves best friends? Were they too different? Too separated? Or was there some invisible string of fate that was tying them together, making their bond inseverable and their destinies forever intertwined? 

And why did he feel so damn lonely all the time? His anxiety made him feel constantly overwhelmed and surrounded but his depression was there to remind him that nothing was real, nothing would last and he was constantly, irreversibly, and irrevocably alone. He recalled the days where he could reach out to Scott for a hug, a heart-to-heart, a hand-holding, anything, to get his mind off of his inner demons. Those days had only been a few years ago, but to him they felt like millions. Standing here in the middle of the hallway, he couldn’t even formulate the words to tell Scott the truth. He didn’t want to be a burden, and he would feel terrible unloading his problems on Scott, who was clearly happier than ever and most likely didn’t want to be brought down by the negative energy that came with playing therapist for Mitch Grassi. 

So instead he forced a smile. He could feel his eyes watering with stinging tears, so he blinked furiously before turning his head to face Scott one final time before saying, “Scott, thank you for your concern, but I’m doing okay. I don’t want you to worry about me.”  
Scott looked like he was going to argue, but Mitch smiled at him again, trying to prove he was alright. This seemed to reassure the blond, as he quickly shut his mouth.  
This satisfied Mitch, although it left his heart heavy and his stomach churning with anxiety at keeping his emotions bottled inside for so long. He was smiling, but Mitch wasn’t sure he would call it that. His smile never reached his eyes anymore. 

As he turned and walked away, leaving the blond behind, he knew Scott knew the truth. But he didn’t call out to Mitch to comfort him. 

All the words of solace between them were absolutely silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Wow, you actually read the whole fic?? Thank you! I have some things I’d like to say before you leave though.  
> This is a work of fiction. The events I wrote about in this story, although based in real life are hypothetical and are completely fictional. My reason for writing is this, all I know is Mitch and Scott aren’t as close anymore, and being a naturally curious and imaginative person, I wanted to write a story about how they sort of drifted apart. I also love writing angst, if you couldn’t tell (I’m sorry). So, please don’t take this fic as me pretending I know how Scott and Mitch feel, because I don’t. But, writing this fic was great practice for me after not writing fanfiction for a whole year, and also kind of helped me deal with the fact that Superfruit will probably not get back together and Mitch and Scott probably won’t be as close again as they were in like the 2014-2017 era.  
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
